


Laundry Day

by young_editor_1999



Category: I Am The Night (TV 2019)
Genre: Budding Relationship, But it still has substance, Clothes Sharing, F/M, Fluff, Los Angeles, Record Stores, Weekend Getaway, Weekends, Will Add More Tags if I Think of Them Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27788581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/young_editor_1999/pseuds/young_editor_1999
Summary: Fauna likes Jay's shirts.Jay likes just having her around.
Relationships: Fauna Hodel/Jay Singletary
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit, I can’t believe that I finished a fic for once in my life! Go figure that it’s for a “dead” fandom though, lol. 
> 
> Anyway, I loved the miniseries and still need more content for Fauna and Jay, which is how this story was born. I really hope that it does them justice and feels natural for them. (:
> 
> Another thing: This story has been entirely self-edited, and I did the best I could with that. As a heads-up, I have to mention that there are probably still a few places where things might not make sense.
> 
> And P.S., standard disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Fauna Hodel story or any of TNT’s official “I Am the Night” content. I’m just a girl with an obsession out here looking to have a good time! (:

The first shirt that she took was the one that he gave her on that night. Thought it had smears of his fresh blood on it and was at least three sizes too big, she loved it because it smelled like him and was a reminder of everything that he had done for her that night. 

Though in the end, she had saved herself, it was nice to know that he had been out there doing everything in his power to get to her. They had become magnetic that way; two forces pushing together, unsure of what was happening until the circumstances demanded an answer from them.

In the days after the incident at George Hodel’s house, she had kept the shirt in her possession, wearing it whenever the mood felt right. Some nights, she even wore it as a sleep shirt.

Her mama didn’t say anything when she wore it around the house but made it clear that she didn’t like her wearing it in public. “Honestly, child, what the hell will people think when they see you dressed in something that’s not your size and has blood on it?” she had scoffed. “Is that really how you want to represent me and this household?”

So Fauna had reserved it for mostly wearing around the house, especially when she received a post-card form Jay. It almost felt wrong to read his words without wearing his shirt. It made her feel closer to him in a way that she hadn’t expected but welcomed and enjoyed none the less.

Three months after Jay had returned from Hawaii and her life was back to as normal as it could be, the smell of him on the beloved fabric had completely worn off. She suddenly had an excuse to go visit him in L.A.

** *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **

If someone had asked Jay if he was surprised to see her at his door, he honestly wasn’t sure how he would have answered. Yes, because it was unexpected. No because she was who she was and he was who he was and they always seemed to find a way back to each other, even though they had only just met and were still technically getting to know each other.

After getting over his brief, initial shock of seeing her after all of these months, he easily welcomed her inside his apartment. “Traveling light?” he asked, noticing that she was only carrying a dark purple backpack. A small brown leather purse was flung over her shoulder, almost as an afterthought.

She looked at him with a quick half-smile, pushing her long, dark hair behind her ear. “You could say that. I’m not planning on being here for long,” she replied as she slipped past him. She walked the short distance from his kitchen to his small dining room and sat her backpack down on a chair.

“Well, what brings you to L.A. today of all days?” He followed her into the dining room and stood across from her, the distance between them normal but noticeable.

She frowned and cocked her head at his comment, unsure of what he meant. “Today of all days, you’re finally back in town.” The statement was blunt and coming from anyone other than her, cold. When she said it though, there was an undertone of warmth and kindness to it, even if he knew that she would never admit that out loud to him.

He chuckled and grinned at her comment. “That I am. Hawaii was great, thanks for asking, by the way.”

“I know. I got all of your postcards. That’s why I didn’t ask.”

_Fuck_. He had forgotten how quick-witted and clever she was. Was this what all teens were like or was this just what _she_ was like? He forced himself not to dwell on the thought, as it would only lead him down a rabbit-hole of overthinking, which he was trying not to do so much these days.

He could feel her looking at him and realized that he had forgotten to respond. He loudly cleared his throat in what could only be considered a dramatic fashion before speaking. “Thanks for all of the letters. I honestly wasn’t expecting you to write me as much as you did.”

She casually shrugged and dropped herself down in the chair next to her backpack. “What can I say? I missed you after you were gone.”

He couldn’t help but broadly smile at her statement, immediately noticing the faint pinkness that had spread all over her face, which was now looking down at the room’s dull hardwood floors. “I missed you too,” he softly responded, walking a few steps closer to her.

She looked up at him through a dark ring of thick eyelashes. He felt as though he was looking at hope straight in her emerald colored eyes. She was by definition, the ultimate example of what hope was and what it could do.

She sighed and broke eye contact with him, reaching over to unzip her backpack. “Here. This is the real reason why I stopped by to see you.” She took out a shirt he had figured was long forgotten and stood up to hand it to him. It was neatly folded and to his surprise, smelled freshly laundered.

“I washed it and got out as much of the blood as I could. I hope you don’t mind.” She said the last part hastily, as if she had convinced herself at the last moment to say it.

“Thank you,” he said, trying not to sound too amazed at the gesture. “You really kept it after all of this time?”

She looked straight into his eyes and nodded. “It was the only thing I had left of you aside from the postcards.”

Jay now found himself at an utter loss of words. This shirt, _his_ shirt, had meant so much her that she had not only kept it, she had cleaned it and folded it and had used it as her excuse to come see him in L.A. after he had returned from Hawaii.

He looked down at the light blue denim and felt his heart swell. God damn. Who knew that a simple piece of fabric would meant so much to her?

While he had been deep in thought, she had gotten up and walked back into his kitchen. She remembered whare he kept his tea-kettle and was filling it with tap water from his faucet. When the kettle whistled, he broke out of thought and slowly lumbered off to his bedroom. He knew what he had to do, though he wasn’t sure if it was out of vanity or of care for her. Maybe both, he decided. And that was ok. It was good to be a little bit vain sometimes.

Though he would _never_ let his vanity slip to George Hodel levels. Just the thought of that vile man made him pause and reconsider what he was about to do.

He shook his head, as if that would free it of the thought. Whatever. In the end, her choices were her own to make and she would make the one the was right for her. Even if it slightly broke his tender heart in the process.

When he returned to the main living area of his apartment, he saw that Fauna had curled up on his worn-in couch and was reading one of his old magazines. Her mug of tea was sitting just a few inches away on the coffee table. She must have heard Jay enter the room because she looked up at him. A content, calm vibe came over him. “You need to get a better tea selection, Jay. I can’t believe that you only have black Lipton and chai.”

“I don’t drink tea all that often,” he replied, walking over to the couch. He gingerly sat down on the other end, careful not to wrinkle the folded shirt he was holding.

She scoffed but smiled and took a sip. “Well that’s obvious.” She sat the mug back down on a coaster and placed the open magazine next to it. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the shirt that was laying in his lap.

“Oh, um…” he suddenly felt awkward and unsure of what to say. “It’s a shirt,” he said, as if stating the obvious would answer all of her questions.

She raised her eyebrows at him and gestured for him to continue. He scratched the back of his head as he searched for the right words. “I thought that I could give you this shirt. You know, to borrow. That way when you’re in Sparks and I’m…here, you can have a little reminder of me.” He cleared his throat again, much more quietly this time, and placed the shirt on the empty couch cushion between them.

The shirt was simple yet soft and one of his all-time favorites. He almost couldn’t believe that he was voluntarily offering it to her.

She picked up the royal blue t-shirt and unfolded it in her lap. “Wow,” she said, sounding almost impressed. “Thanks, Jay.”

He nodded, his version of ‘you’re welcome’ and allowed himself to relax into the couch cushions. “When do you have to go?” he asked as she refolded the shirt and went over to place it in her backpack.

“Not until Sunday night,” she said over her shoulder, still bent over her bag. She rezipped it and returned to her spot on the couch, bouncing a little as she readjusted herself on it. “I’m here all weekend,” she said, a gleeful tone sneaking into her voice.

“Are you?” he felt a smile break out on his face. It was growing by the second, even more so when he saw how bashful she suddenly looked.

“Yep,” she said, her hair swinging as she nodded. “And I was hoping that I could stay here with you. I don’t hardly know anyone else and I am _not_ staying at Big Mama’s. Especially since that’s not who I came here to see.”

Jay slowly returned her nod, liking the idea having her here with him for an entire weekend. In the pit of his stomach, something dark suddenly began to bubble and he realized that he was angry with himself for liking that she would be staying with him. “It’s not gonna be weird for you, is it?”

She sighed. “Jay, life is as weird as it gets. I don’t really see how me staying here with you for a weekend would make it any weirder.”

So it was settled, then. They would be spending and entire weekend together doing God knows what. He squeezed his eyes shut and internally braced himself, ready and not ready all once to be spending this time with her.

** *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **

By Sunday morning, they had found a rhythm that worked between them. It had been easier than either had them had expected it to be, but that was the ways things seemed to work for them. The harder something seemed for other people, the easier it was for them.

Fauna almost hated to admit it, but she could get used to living with Jay. She liked his apartment and all of the things inside of it. She also liked how he treated her-not as a child like her mama still sometimes did, but also not as a full-fledged adult either. They had a balance that worked and that satisfied them and that was all that mattered.

On Saturday, he had taken her out on a tour of the city. Thought she had just been there a few months before, she didn’t realize what she had been missing out on and hadn’t seen yet. L.A. was a city full of wonders and she felt warm that he had decided to show her the hidden corners of it.

When Saturday evening had rolled around, he had taken her to the grocery store that was around the corner from his apartment. He had picked up a chicken, a bag of brown rice, a can of red beans, and upon Fauna’s insistence, several new teas. She had bitten back a smile when he had let her put the teas in their basket. She had known all along that Jay would buy the extra teas because of her, even if he had fake-protested against it.

Back at his apartment, he had seasoned and cooked the chicken in the oven while she carefully made them red beans and rice. It was a simple dish that she had made her entire life, but when she had made it for Jay, she couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous about it. The one time she made it for someone other than her and mama would be the one time when it turned out terribly.

Luckily, the dish had been a success and had paired nicely with the roasted chicken Jay had made. She felt proud that they had found success together in the kitchen.

Having a troubled past seemed to make everyday tasks that much more worth celebrating. Not that she liked to use her past as an excuse for everything, but it was nice to remind herself every now and then how far she had come. Jay too, but she got the feeling that he reflected on his past too often for his own good. 

After eating, they had sat together on the couch and watched T.V. They had sat closer together than what they had on that first afternoon. So close, in fact, that she could have reached out and touched him if she had wanted to. At one point, she had bravely reached over and placed her hand on his upper arm for the briefest of seconds. If he thought it was weird, he didn’t react or say anything. She had done it again, about fifteen minutes later, lingering a little longer this time. This pattern continued on and off for the rest of the night until she had felt so sleepy that she had leaned in and laid her head on his broad shoulder.

She had awoken alone on the couch a few hours later, a long, soft blanket covering her. The T.V. was still on at a low volume and Jay’s bedroom door was shut yet slightly cracked open. Not wanting to disturb him, but also desperately needing to pee, she had gotten up and walked to bathroom as quietly as she could. When she left the bathroom, she peaked into Jay’s room. He was mumbling incoherent things to himself and was slashing around, as if he was in the middle of a nightmare. 

She had pushed open the door and walked over to his side of the full-sized bed. “You’re ok Jay,” she had whispered, not daring to touch him quite yet. “It’s only a dream.” He was still jostling around and mumbling, so she had stepped closer and kneeled by his bedside. “Shh. Shh. It’s not real. You can wake up at any time and make it stop,” she told him, gently placing her right hand on his back. He stopped moving as much after she had touched him, and she took that as a good sign. He had still been whimpering, but not nearly as much as he had been before.

He had sleepily opened his eyes, groggy but recognizing her. “Fauna.”

“Sorry,” she had said, still whispering, still kneeling. “You seemed to be going through some intense stuff and I felt bad for you.”

“Don’t feel bad for me kid,” he had slurred. “I go through shit like this every single night. Have ever since I got back from th’ war.”

“I know what that’s like,” she said, because she did. It had been nothing but night-terrors in those first few weeks after her ordeal with George Hodel. Though time had cured them for the most part, there were moments every now and then where something struck her, and she would wake up screaming and crying.

Jay had sleepily groaned and stretched out his legs. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

She had furrowed her brows and frowned at his comment. “I’m not leaving you,” she decided. Before he could say anything in protest, she quickly went out to the living room and grabbed the blanket that had been covering her. She eased herself on top of his mattress, not bold enough to slip under his actual covers. “Now go back to sleep,” she repeated what he had just told her. “I got you, alright?”

A few moments later, she heard his breathing subtly change and knew that he was fast asleep. Hearing his breathing made her feel relaxed and calm, so she too had fallen asleep in no time at all.

Now, it was around ten A.M. She wasn’t sure what time Jay had woken up. Whatever time it had been, he had decided to let her sleep and for that, she was grateful. She sat up and stretched before snatching the blanket she had been covered in off of his bed in order to return it to wherever it had come from.

When she exited his room, she saw that he was in the kitchen, making them breakfast and humming to himself. Hmm. Interesting. She had never taken Jay to be a hummer before. “Where does this go?” she asked him, the blanket now neatly folded up under her arm.

He stopped humming and glanced over at her to see what she was talking about, licking his thumb in the process. “Oh, that. It goes in that closet right above my clothes. Here, let me do it, it’s kind of high up,” he said, coming over to take the blanket from her. When he went to grab the blanket, his fingers brushed up against hers for half of a second. Whether it was accidental or on purpose, she would never know and she knew that he would never tell.

He swiftly walked over to his closet and put the blanket back while she wandered over to the stovetop to see what he was making them. “Pancakes,” she announced, not hiding how impressed she felt.

“ _Blueberry_ pancakes. Made with fresh blueberries,” he replied, his back still facing her.

“I didn’t know you had fresh blueberries,” she commented, moving a few pancakes along with some slices of bacon onto a clean plate. She opened his refrigerator to get out the orange juice plus butter and syrup for the pancakes.

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t. I just went out to get them,” he said, the task of putting the blanket back now complete.

“Do you always go out on Sunday’s to get fresh produce?” she asked, taking her food over to the table. She had to make another trip for the juice, butter and syrup plus a glass for the juice to go into.

“No, not always,” he admitted, returning to his place at the stove. “But I did today.”

She nodded and didn’t say anything else, letting herself get lost in the taste of the food. “These are really good,” she found herself saying after a moment. The pancakes were light and fluffy and the blueberries inside them were just the right amount of plump and juicy.

“Thank you,” he said, coming over to join her at the table. They sat in comfortable silence for what seemed like a long time. At least long enough that she had almost finished her entire plate of food and a little over half of her juice.

“What do you even usually do on weekends, Jay?” she asked, pulling her legs in to her chest. She was genuinely interested and sincerely wanted to know how he spent his time.

He shrugged, chewing a bite of food that was in his mouth. “It depends. Sometimes I have an assignment to work on for the paper. Other times I…uh…get drunk and self-loathe all day.”

She looked at him and squinted. “Why? Why on Earth would you choose to do _that_?”

A puff of air escaped his lips. “I don’t know. Because it’s just how I feel sometimes.” Fauna continued to stare him down, not satisfied with his answer. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t done that since I’ve been back in L.A. I’ve been too busy focusing on other aspects of life.”

“Alright, fine,” she said. His answer would do for now. It would be interesting to see he slipped back into his old habits now that he was back in, as he referred to it as, “the city of destroyed dreams”. “What else? When you’re not working or drinking, what else do you do on weekends?”

“Chores. Believe it or not, Fauna, I try to keep this place as clean as possible.”

“I believe you. I’ve been in your bathroom,” she smirked, bringing her glass up to her lips in an attempt to hide it.

He smirked back and playfully groaned. “Fuck, that was a secret. You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

“For shame, Jay, for shame.” She shook her head and let out a quick laugh.

He laughed along with her before focusing back on the task at hand. “The other thing I do on the weekends is laundry.”

“Laundry?” she repeated.

“Laundry,” he confirmed with a brisk nod.

“We do laundry throughout the week in Sparks,” she said. “But I can see where you wouldn’t have the time to do that like how we do.”

“It’s not so much that I don’t have the time, it’s that after working all day long, chasing down leads and interviewing people and even completing some writing, I’m too exhausted to think about _any_ type of cleaning.”

Fauna nodded. “I see.”

“Weekends are my time for me,” he continued. “I work for the people, trying to give them the most accurate reporting. I need some time to myself every now and then.”

“Hence the self-loathing drinking days,” she coolly said, pushing her plate back further on the table.

“Exactly,” he confirmed, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth.

They sat in silence for another moment when a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Hey, are you still employed? Do you still work for that newspaper or did they fire you?”

He heavily sighed and looked as if he was contemplating how to answer. “It’s complicated,” he finally replied. “Do you remember the night we got back from Hawaii?”

She nodded. That night was a vivid memory for her, as if had happened just last night instead of several months ago.

“It turned out that my boss, a man that I have known for ten years, ratted me out. That’s the entire reason why I was taken away to jail that night.”

“Oh.” She wanted to say more, but what was there to say? A man that he had trusted had betrayed him.

Jay slowly nodded, as if the information hadn’t yet had time to sink in; as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened. “I wanna go back. But I’m just not sure if I wanna go back _there_. I have a history with him, of course, but now everything is fucked up.” He let out a flutter of a sigh and leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder every time I find something relevant and newsworthy to report on.”

“So then don’t.” she shrugged and placed a forkful of pancake in her mouth. “You can go anywhere. You have the power to do that,” she finished her thought after she had swallowed.

She looked at him as a grin slowly spread across his face. “You’re right.” He nodded and sat up a little bit straighter in his chair. “I can still make something of myself.” The comment was low, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She couldn’t help but smile, if only for a moment.

“But Jay, you’ve _already_ made something of yourself. Who the hell else would have had the balls to investigate George Hodel and Tamar and that house of horrors? You said it yourself: that man had ties so deep in this community, who even really knows who he all had under his thumb.” He was looking down at the floor, so she leaned forward and placed her hands on top of his. He finally looked up at her, his mouth slightly agape. “You did good, Jay. And you _are_ doing good and you _still can_ do good. Don’t let that one experience taint the rest of your career.” She gently squeezed his hands, silently wondering how much of what she had just said had been for her as much as it had been for him.

They looked at each other for a moment longer before he wedged his hands out from under hers, but not before squeezing back a nanosecond before he let go. She let her hands drift back to her lap, surprisingly not feeling embarrassed by what had just happened.

She thought that Jay _did_ seem embarrassed, at least a little bit. Though she had only known Jay for a short period of time, she had gotten good at reading him and being able to tell exactly what kind of mood he was in. She chalked it up to the amount of time they had spent together in Hawaii, even thought that now felt like a whole lifetime ago.

Food all eaten, she got up to go rinse her plate and juice glass, deciding to come back to his feelings later. “What do you want to do today?” she asked instead, looking over her shoulder at him.

He chuckled. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be asking _you_ that since you’re the guest.”

“Ok,” she replied, her tone a little brighter than what it usually was. “I want to…” she trailed off, trying to think of something quick yet fun to do with him before she had to return home. “I want to go to the record store,” she decided with a definitive nod of her head.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t question her choice other than asking, “Which one?”

“We drove past a cool looking one yesterday.” She paused and tapped her chin, trying to remember what it was called or at least what street it had been on. “I think it was at the corner of Sunset and Vine.”

Jay’s entire face suddenly lit up in a way that she had never seen before. “Oh my God! I know that place! I used to go there all the time!” he excitedly said. She swore that he was about to start jumping up and down, as if he was a child and this was Christmas morning _and_ his birthday all wrapped up into one. “It’s called Wallichs Music City. Yeah, they’ve been around for a long time,” he nodded.

Fauna let out the laugh she had been holding in. “Great. Let’s go.” She walked back to the kitchen to grab her purse from where it was sitting next to the spot she had just been eating at and made a bee-line for the door.

She didn’t have to look back to know that he was following her.

** *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **

When they arrived at Wallichs, the parking lot was nearly empty. Jay found a spot up close but not too close and parked his car. He hadn’t been to this particular record store in years, even though he used to come all the time when he was new to the city. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t been to _any_ record store in a long time. At least since before he met Fauna.

He shut off the ignition and they climbed out of the sedan. Though she was almost a full foot shorter than he was, she walked just as quickly, if not more so than what he did. It was interesting how their paces always seemed to match and that they were always able to keep up with the other.

The inside of the store was brightly lit, but not in a way that made his eyes hurt like they did whenever he went into a grocery store. The records were neatly arranged alphabetically by genre and she walked in the direction of the area labeled “Popular”. He choose the aisle in front her and frowned as he began glancing through the albums in front of him.

He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at the selection available to him. He didn’t know music or what sounded good. Hell, he _barely_ even knew what he _use_ to like.

“Everybody must still be in church,” Fauna idly commented, not looking up from the bin she was flipping through. “I should be there, too.”

“Your mom made you go?” he asked, still unsure of what exactly to be looking for.

The back of her dark head nodded. “Mm-hmm, every week. Sunday school, too. Though I’m not sure if I believe in God or in religion at all anymore.”

He continued to look at her but didn’t comment further on the topic. He knew what she was referencing and often felt the same way at times.

They continued to browse the records, moving from one section to the other. They had made a full, uninterrupted loop around the entire store before returning to where they had begun. He watched as she found exactly what she wanted, as if she had memorized where the location of each invidual album was.

“Here,” she said as she walked up to him and handed him four albums. He could feel her watching him as he took in her selection, carefully examining each cover. The albums she had presented him were _Help_ by the Beatles, _Surfin’ U.S.A._ by the Beach Boys, _The Typewriter Tape_ by Janis Joplin and _Brining it all Back Home_ by Bob Dylan.

“Essential listening for the modern ear,” he said in a playful tone, grinning at her after he had finished shuffling through her choices.

She tried to fight back a smile but failed. “Essential listening for _you_. Though who knows, I might have to come back on a different weekend so that we can listen to them together.” She said the last part of her comment so casually, it was as if she hadn’t said it at all.

The idea of her coming back to spend more time with him made him feel giddy yet nervous and he suddenly remembered what it was like to be a teenager himself. Had he _ever_ played it cool in his life when it came to people he liked and things he was passionate about? Maybe a few times. Around her, he always found himself wavering between keeping it cool and totally freaking out.

At the cash register, when she unzipped her purse and took out a few bills from her wallet, he waved her off. “I got this.”

A look of apprehension crossed her face. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s no trouble at all,” he confidently said. Records were more expensive than what he had remembered them to be, which was probably why he had stopped buying them in the first place. He didn’t mind spending a few bucks on what she wanted, though. It was the least he could do.

“Ok, you’re all set,” the cashier said a few moments later after the albums had all been rung up and paid for. “And please, take this flyer. Capitol Records is having a promotional picnic next weekend. Lots of new music is expected to be released. And there might even be some of the musicians there in the flesh.” The man winked at Jay as he accepted the flyer, tucking it in with the bag the albums had just been placed in.

As they walked out of Wallichs together, he thought about how lucky that cashier was that to have directed the wink at him and not her. He would probably be on the store’s banned list with a bloody lip right now if that had happened.

** *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **

As soon as they arrived back at Jay’s apartment, Fauna snatched the bag out of his hands and eagerly walked over to his living room, stopping where his stereo and record collection was. She took the albums out of the bag and intentionally placed them right on top of the record player. “Turn the volume up when you play them,” she said, tossing the bag in the trashcan that was next to his end table. “It’s better that way.” She felt a little foolish saying it but had no regrets.

“I take it that you listen to all of your records this way?” he questioned, walking into the living room and flopping down in the chair that was to the right of the stereo system.

“Only sometimes,” she admitted. “Mama lets me listen to the blues, classic, and jazz as loud as I want. I gotta be secret about the rock and roll, though.” She felt a small half-smile form on her lips and she let it be.

“Secret how?” He scooted the chair forward so that he could prop his feet up on the coffee table.

“I usually go over to people’s houses and hear it there,” she said, sitting down on the arm of the couch. “And of course, I can hear it in public places at times, too.”

She glanced at him and saw him thoughtfully nodding. “I _hear_ music, but I don’t _listen_ to it. It’s almost like an abstract concept to me.”

She had a feeling that this was how he felt about music, which is why she had wanted to go to the record store. “Music is a way of life, Jay. It’ll be here with us for the rest of our lives and can tell you things about yourself that you don’t even know yet.”

He slightly rose upward out of the chair he was lounging in and looked at her, the expression on his face a mix between impressed and relaxed. He looked as if he wanted to say something but held himself back at the last minute. She left herself wonder what he might have asked or stated as she rummaged through her purse in search of the multicolored silk scarf she knew she had.

She found the scarf at the bottom of her purse and tied her hair into a ponytail with it. “I have to leave soon,” she quietly announced when she had completed the short task. _But I don’t want to go._ The words remined in her mind, trapped on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to say them out loud but wasn’t sure if she was ready to face the consequences of doing such a thing just yet.

“Let me drive you back,” he suggested, removing his feet from the coffee table. When she shook her head, he insisted. “Come on. It’s not that long of a drive. And wouldn’t you rather spend your time traveling with me that with a bunch of goons you don’t even know and definitely can’t trust?” He grinned that goofy, shit-eating grin of his.

She rolled her eyes even though this was by far, her favorite expression of his. “Fine, fine, you win,” she said. “But we’d better leave now so that we make it there on time. I don’t want to answer any questions that I’m not ready to answer yet.”

“Fair enough,” he replied. He stood up and stretched as she gathered her backpack and purse. She saw him walk out to the kitchen but wasn’t able to see him. She assumed that he had leaned up against the counter because that was what he usually did.

“I’ll be right there! I just gotta go to the bathroom before we hit the road,” she called, heading that way.

“I thought we had to leave right away!” he hollered back, the playfulness back in his voice.

“We won’t get very far if you have to pull over before the trip has even begun.” Her voice was loud as she shut the door to his bathroom and she grimaced as the remnants of it echoed on the tiled floor. ‘ _Whatever_ ,’ she thought. ‘ _I’m loud when it counts_.’

She really _did_ have to go to the bathroom before she left, but she had been planning on doing that at the bus station terminal. Leave it to Jay to completely switch up his plan at the last minute, forcing her to readjust along with him.

She finished doing her business and as quietly as she could, washed her hands. She would come back to flush the monstrosity of the toilet in a second.

She had always been good at being sneaky, a fact that she knew but hadn’t paid attention to until life had forced her to a few months ago. Now she could get around almost any place without being undetected, a fact that made her feel proud and shameful all at once.

Most of Jay’s clothes were in the closet near the kitchen, but she knew that he still kept some stuff in his bedroom. The door to the room was already wide open and she stepped in without hesitation. She took quick steps around his furniture, not wanting to grab the first thing she saw in an attempt to make her takings less obvious.

A previously worn, wadded up maroon, black and white flannel shirt was wedged underneath his bed between the base-board and his nightstand. She reached under and grabbed it while spotting one of his signature plain white t-shirts just a few feet away. It was on top of the bed but under the covers.

“Uh, Fauna? You ok in there?” he suddenly asked right as she had picked up the white t-shirt. Even from in here, she could hear the slight anxiety filling his voice.

“Yeah!” She quickly shouted back, hoping that eased his mind a little as she quickly folded the shirts. “I’ll be out soon.” She coughed and quickly unzipped her backpack, shoving both shirts inside it. She then creeped back into the bathroom, rezipping her bag as she flushed the toilet. She washed her hands again and returned to where he was patiently waiting for her.

“Ready?” he asked. His arms were crossed and just as she had imagined, he was leaning up against the counter. Not as she had imagined, he was intently looking at her.

She slung the backpack over her shoulder, returned his intent gaze and nodded. “Ready.” Though he was closer to the door, he gestured for her to go in front of him, so she did.

The hallway of his apartment complex was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, which is what they did. The staircase wasn’t as wide and as she walked down it, she thought that her footsteps sounded loud and hollow beneath her. Behind her, Jay’s did too.

She could feel her heart beating a little bit faster underneath the lime green, cream and navy striped dress she had on. This time, though, her heart beating faster was from excitement instead of nervousness.

She now had three of his shirts in her possession. That meant that she would be taking three separate trips to and from L.A. to see him and return each shirt.

She wanted to scream with joy. Knowing him and having his clothing in her possession was by far one of the greatest pleasures she had experienced thus far in her young life.

** *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **

When they got to Sparks, she had made him drop her off a few feet away from the bus station. “Just in case anybody is watching,” she had explained, clearly still not over Sepp following her for all of that time.

“Ok,” he had replied, understanding her decision but not particularly liking it. He knew that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but he still couldn’t help feeling protective of her.

She had smiled that half-smile of hers. “I’ll be fine, Jay. Really.” She had unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to give him a quick, unexpected hug. “I’ll see you soon. Good luck with everything in the meantime.” With that, she had opened the door and gotten out, giving him a small wave and a final look before turning around and walking with what could only be described as a pep in her step.

The drive back to L.A. had given him time to think, which he had a love-hate relationship with. On one hand, he had written many of his stories in his head that way back when he had been an official reporter. On the other, he knew that he was a constant over-thinker. He had a compulsive mind and an obsession for the truth. He had always thought that it was his greatest feature, but also his biggest flaw. 

Tonight, all of his thoughts were about Fauna. What her personality was like, how she was handling her life and what she meant to him in the grand scheme of things. The last item was the hardest to place an exact answer on. He knew that he liked her and that he wanted to keep her in his life, but he wasn’t sure if they were friends or slightly more than friends.

He entered his apartment with a throbbing head, aching to go out and have a few drinks just to make it stop. But the further he stepped into his home, the less his head throbbed and the less he felt the need to slip into his alcoholic tendencies.

Even though she was gone, there were still signs of her everywhere. She had left the teas he had bought out on the counter next to the stove. Her records were still exactly where she had left them and the chair that she had sat her backpack on was still sitting at an angle.

No longer feeling like he needed a stiff drink, he decided to put his energy into cleaning up the place, starting with his bedroom. It was an absolute wreck. His bed was unmade, there was dirty laundry thrown around in various locations and he had notes from things he had been writing before he left spread throughout the room.

The papers were always the easiest to gather, so he searched for them first, making a mental note to put them in order at a later time. Next, he went to collect his dirty laundry. When he searched his bed for clothes, he could have sworn that he had had a white t-shirt buried somewhere in the covers. He shook his head when he didn’t find it and moved over to the space between the bed’s base-board and nightstand.

Moments earlier, he hadn’t felt crazy, but now he did. He _knew_ that he had had a maroon, black and white plaid flannel shirt carelessly flung somewhere in that area. It was one of his favorite articles of clothing. There was no way that he had accidently misplaced it.

He sat down on the edge of the still unmade bed, trying to think about what could have happened to the shirt. A rampant thought entered his mind and he entertained it with a quiet giggle. There was only one explanation for why he couldn’t locate the shirt: Fauna had come in and taken it when he wasn’t paying attention.

His giggle turned into a full-blown laugh, but he wasn’t laughing at her. Not really, anyway. He was laughing because she had once again, proven how sneaky and clever she was. When she wanted something, she spared no expense to get it, just like him.

He wiped the tears that had formed in his eyes as a result of his laughter and pushed himself up off of the bed. He walked out to his closet and pulled out the denim shirt she had returned to him just two days prior. He stood there with the door to the closet open and brought the fabric up to his nose, closing his eyes and breathing in slowly and deeply. The shirt smelled like clean laundry, yes, but underneath the clean laundry smell, he swore that her own scent was still lingering on the fabric.

He smiled and chuckled to himself as he put the shirt on over his navy and white striped t-shirt. She had known _exactly_ what she had been doing by taking two more of his shirts. She _always_ knew what she was doing, he thought, running his fingers over the shirt’s buttons. Her taking two extra shirts felt different to him in the best way possible.

He didn’t mind that she had taken them as much as he thought that he initially would. Clothing would always be there. And based on the way things were going so far, so would she.

He couldn’t think of a more fitting ending to what was surely the beginning of their story.

** *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **

_**End** _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the (few) people out there who read this! A special shout-out to JackEPeace, who encourages my Jauna obsession and inspired me to get this story completed!!! I can’t believe but am so glad that you’re still super-into this fandom and that you are as invested in their relationship as much as I am (: I’m sending big love and a virtual hug your way <3 Thanks again for everything! 
> 
> Also, can I just say that I stayed up super-late one night and wrote almost all of this? I was feeling hella inspired and just went with it. I’m happy with the way this story turned out and overall found it surprisingly easy to write (:
> 
> Additionally, Wallichs Music City was a real record store with a real connection to Capitol Records. You can read more about the store here: https://www.lamag.com/citythinkblog/remembering-l-a-s-first-great-record-store-wallichs-music-city/ 
> 
> I am finding myself to be loving this dynamic and am overflowing with future ideas for the two of them, though I’m not sure when exactly I will post my next story about them. In the meantime, I’ll be here in my corner, daydreaming and thinking about new situations to put these two in (:


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